Drums of Autumn - Diana Gabaldon [297]
“Of course she is, I’ve told ye, she’s your cousin.”
“But she’s got on breeks!” Matthew stared at her in shock. “Ladies dinna wear breeks!”
The young woman looked rather as though she subscribed to this opinion as well, but she interrupted firmly, moving to take the little boy from his father.
“Well, and I’m sure she’s a fine reason for it, but it isna proper to be makin’ remarks before people’s faces. You go and get yourself washed, aye?” She set him down and turned him toward the door at the end of the hallway, giving him a gentle push. He didn’t move, but turned back around to stare at Brianna.
“Where’s Grannie, Matt?” his father asked.
“In the back parlor wi’ Grandda and a lady and a man,” Matthew replied promptly. “They’ve had two pots of coffee, a tray of scones, and a whole Dundee cake, but Mama says they’re hangin’ on in hopes of bein’ fed dinner, too, and good luck to them because it’s only brose and a bit o’ hough today, and damned—oop!”—he pressed a hand over his mouth, glancing guiltily at his father—“and drat if she’ll gie them any of the gooseberry tart, no matter how long they stay.”
Young Jamie gave his son a narrow look, then glanced quizzically at his sister. “A lady and a man?”
Janet made a faint moue of distaste.
“The Grizzler and her brother,” she said.
Young Jamie grunted, with a glance at Brianna.
“I imagine Mam will be pleased for an excuse to get away from them, then.” He nodded at Matthew. “Go and fetch your Grannie, lad. Tell her I’ve brought a visitor she’ll like to see. And watch your language, aye?” He turned Matthew toward the back of the house and slapped him gently on the rump in dismissal.
The little boy went, but slowly, casting glances of intense fascination over his shoulder at Brianna as he went.
Young Jamie turned back to Brianna, smiling.
“That’ll be my eldest,” he said. “And this”—gesturing to the young woman, “is my sister, Janet Murray. Janet—Mistress Brianna Fraser.”
Brianna didn’t know whether to offer to shake hands or not, and instead contented herself with a nod and a smile. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said warmly.
Janet’s eyes sprang wide with amazement, whether at what Brianna had said or at the accent with which she’d spoken, Brianna couldn’t tell.
Young Jamie grinned at his sister’s surprise.
“You’ll never guess who she is, Jen,” he said. “Never in a thousand years!”
Janet lifted one eyebrow, then narrowed her eyes at Brianna.
“Cousin,” she murmured, looking their guest frankly up and down. “She’s the look o’ the MacKenzies, surely. But she’s a Fraser, ye say …” Her eyes sprang suddenly wide.
“Oh, ye can’t be,” she said to Brianna. A wide smile began to spread across her face, pointing up the family resemblance to her brother. “You can’t be!”
Her brother’s chortle was interrupted by the swish of a swinging door and the sound of light footsteps on the boards of the hallway.
“Aye, Jamie? Mattie says we’ve a guest—” The soft, brisk voice died suddenly, and Brianna looked up, her heart suddenly in her throat.
Jenny Murray was very small—no more than five feet tall—and delicately boned as a sparrow. She stood staring at Brianna, mouth slightly open. Her eyes were the deep blue of gentians, made the more striking by a face gone white as paper.
“Oh, my,” she said softly. “Oh, my.” Brianna smiled tentatively, nodding to her aunt—her mother’s friend, her father’s beloved only sister. Oh, please! she thought, suddenly suffused with a longing as intense as it was unexpected. Please like me, please be happy I’m here!
Young Jamie bowed elaborately to his mother, beaming.
“Mam, might I have the honor to present to ye—”
“Jamie Fraser! I kent he was back—I told ye, Jenny Murray!”
The voice rang out from the back of the hallway in tones of high-pitched accusation. Glancing up in startlement, Brianna saw a woman emerging from the shadows, rustling with indignation.
“Amyas Kettrick told me he’d seen your brother riding near Balriggan! But no, ye wouldna have it, would ye, Jenny—telling me I’m a fool, telling me Amyas is blind,